


Saving

by Ziba



Series: Garbage Haikyuu Quest [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blood, Final Haikyuu Quest, Fluff and Angst, M/M, also suga hinata and kags are barely there, also you can see me sneaking a little of kenma/iwaizumi friendship that i'm thirsty for, i just wanted to write a warm up fic to get that medieval fantasy feeling back, kuroken if you squint but it can be either romantic or platonic so, mostly angst, sorry for the problem with the tag, this has probably already been done but you know how i am, this wasn't supposed to happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 04:37:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7603684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziba/pseuds/Ziba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi had vowed at a young age to always save Oikawa.</p><p>[A Final Haikyuu Quest fic]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saving

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be fun, don't worry! Only fluff and happiness  
> (Sorry for any mistake, it was written in a whim. As said in the tags, it was supposed to be a warm up drabble that should have never seen the light, but then somebody told me to upload it so here we are)  
> EDIT: I'M SO SORRY I JUST REALIZED THE MISTAKE IN THE TAGS I'M MORTIFIED I APOLOGIZE TO EVERYBODY WHO WAS EXPECTING ACTUAL FLUFF I SWEAR I'M MORTIFIED ç_ç I joked because I thought the tag was there

The air was still until a scream broke through it.

“ _Save me_ , Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, trotting toward the other child, who was frantically moving an hand through his hair.

“I told you not to stick your head in that bush.” Iwaizumi deadpanned, putting his hands on his friend’s shoulder, slapping away the other’s tiny hands. 

Oikawa pushed out his lower lip, which was quivering, signaling Iwaizumi that a crying session might have started soon enough. He quickly searched Oikawa’s hair, tongue pulled out in concentration. Oikawa looked up at him, barely controlling his trembling limbs.

Iwaizumi let out a victorious “Ah!” the moment he found the beetle that had found its way inside Oikawa’s unruly hair. Oikawa sighed in relief, as Iwaizumi released the insect.

Before Oikawa could say anything obnoxious, Iwaizumi flicked his forehead, and then took him by one of the small horns that poked out of his hairline. “You are lucky none of these got stuck in the bush, or we’d have to cut them.” Iwaizumi teased, and it was Oikawa’s turn to slap hands away.

“If that were the case, then the bush would have to go.” he said, pouting, folding his arms before his chest. How childlike. 

“The bush did nothing wrong.”

“Well neither did I!”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, again. It happened more and more nowadays. 

 

* * *

 

 

Iwaizumi opened the door to the King’s study, popping his head inside.

“Did you call?”

Oikawa was leaning in a chair far too big, hands on his face, desk full of scrolls and books, an half-burnt candle on his right. 

Since he had taken the crown, six month earlier, Oikawa had grown more and more stressed, bags under his eyes getting darker and darker.

“I can’t do this.”

Iwaizumi sighed, closing the door behind him.

“What you can’t do?” he asked casually, approaching the desk, leaning an hip against hit, one arm pressed against the wood, the other taking the scroll right before Oikawa.

“I can’t deal with this paperwork, and I can’t deal with the uprising in the south. They just won’t listen to reason!” Oikawa moved his hands like a desperate man, voice tinged with tiredness.

“Well, it’s not like you have a choice.” Iwaizumi scanned the scroll, searching for something that could explain the sudden uproar. The south had been added to the kingdom thirty years prior, they still had their own king and queen, as long as they answered to Oikawa’s sovereign. Which they didn’t. “We can’t have war spread to the other conquered countries.” Iwaizumi frowned. They treated they subjects much more fairly than others, so the rebellion had absolutely no reason to exist.

Oikawa sighed, then moved his body so that his forehead was pressed against the back of the hand that Iwaizumi was using as counterweight to stay balanced against the desk. “ _Save me_ Hajime.”

Iwaizumi smiled a little sad smile. Oikawa must have been really exhausted if he was dropping the childish nickname. He passed an hand through the King’s hair, and the other man leaned in the touch.

“I suppose you can take a break. But you can’t just call it a day, or tomorrow you’ll have to deal with both today’s work and tomorrow’s.” Iwaizumi answered, voice stern but not without affection.

Oikawa whined and didn’t move. Iwaizumi pushed himself from the desk, taking his hand away from Oikawa, who whined once again at the loss of contact. He took one of the little chairs that rested against the wall. Oikawa was looking at him curiously.

Iwaizumi moved the chair from the wall to the door, putting the seatback below the door handle, so that it couldn’t be opened from the outside. Then he turned, finding Oikawa’s mischievous smirk waiting for him.

“My, my, Iwa-chan. Are you thinking about what I think you are thinking?” the King purred, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

“Well, I thought that we didn’t want any poor servant walk on us like last time.” was all Iwaizumi answered, making his way back to the desk. He took Oikawa’s head in his hands, looking at him straight in the eyes.

They bore more of a reddish hue this days, he noticed.

“Just a little break, then you are back to work.” he said, making things clear.

“Little break, then work.” Oikawa agreed eagerly, eyes shooting from Iwaizumi’s eyes to his lips and back to his eyes. Iwaizumi snorted a chuckle. It didn’t matter if Oikawa was a five years old child or a twenty years old monarch, Iwaizumi could read him like an open book.

“C’me here then.” and Iwaizumi captured the King’s lips with his own.

 

* * *

 

 

The city wasn’t at all how Iwaizumi remembered it.

His ragtag group had reached it the day before, Hinata and Kageyama bickering between themselves, Kenma as quiet as ever.

Iwaizumi looked at the streets, which were dark and rotten, where once they had been clean and colorful. He looked at the people, who were either starving or contemplating murder, when once they had been glowing and hard-working. He tried to recall the smell of freshly-baked bread and of blooming flowers, but his nostrils where filled with the smell of blood and bodily waste.

“What have you done, Oikawa-” he whispered to himself, eyes wide in disbelief.

They were supposed to find the head of the rebels, who had made their nest right inside the Demons’ bosom, but Iwaizumi found hard moving.

Was this his own fault? Could he have done more to prevent Oikawa’s doom? Maybe he should have advised him better. Maybe he shouldn’t have made him shoulder the weight of the crown all alone. Maybe he should have been more trust-worthy.

Maybe if he had been more trust-worthy, Oikawa would have told him about the kidnapping of princess Michimiya, which had started the uprising five years earlier. Maybe Oikawa would have told him about his interest in the dark arts, that had eventually lead to his total corruption.

“It’s not time for ‘what ifs’.” He shook himself, taking a deep breath, and then jogged after his companions. 

The group proceeded trough the city, Iwaizumi taking the lead after, in their arguing, Hinata and Kageyama had almost ended up in one of the rivers that run the city. With a sting to his heart, Iwaizumi noticed that the waters were dark and smelly, and probably deadly.

“We used to bathe in this river” he thought, once again allowing nostalgia to take over. He couldn’t believe Oikawa had let that happen to his city, to _their_ city. 

Iwaizumi had vowed to himself that he would have _saved him_.

A cry from his left, he turned. A woman was weeping loudly, clenching the body of a malnourished, deceased child.

Iwaizumi had to wonder. Could Oikawa be saved?

 

* * *

 

 

Sawamura was informing the Commanders about the tactic they’d use to storm the castle, but Iwaizumi wasn’t listening.

He had come up with it.

Sugawara was explaining the structure of the castle, how many chambers were there, how many corridors, secret passages, but Iwaizumi wasn’t listening.

He had grown up in that castle, he had been the one to leak the information.

This time tomorrow, and he’d either be dead or alive. Looking at the numbers, they had completely overpowered the Demon King, who stood alone with an handful of men and his own Demon General in defense of the castle, whereas the rebels had thousands of soldiers up their sleeve. They were prepared for days of siege, and it was unlikely.

The soldiers were positive, moral was high, victory at an arm’s length, and yet Iwaizumi felt nothing but dread. 

“You wish to add anything, General?”

Sawamura’s voice distracted him, shaking him from his brooding. He gave a weak smile, knowing that it was his place to boost even more the troops' moral. “I know all of you, and I know the enemy.” Ah, if he didn’t know the enemy. “I can assure you, this day tomorrow, we’ll be standing victorious.” A small roar of applause, immediately subdued by Iwaizumi’s raised hand. “I want all of you to get a good night rest, and to say your goodbyes to your loved ones. You can promise them that tomorrow we will bring back your queen. I’ll make sure that we save her.”

Another roar, this time much more convinced. It wasn’t Iwaizumi’s best speech, but it was more than enough to fire spirits up. He felt hands clapping his shoulders and patting his back, a few even ruffling his already spiky hair, and he smiled, politely, as he always did.

People started to move, aiming for their tents or houses or whenever it was they were spending the night. Some invited Iwaizumi for drinks, but Iwaizumi both declined and reminded them not to get too drunk, since an hangover soldier was a dead soldier. The men straightened up, and Iwaizumi just waved goodnight to them.

“Iwaizumi, wait a second!”

Iwaizumi turned, to see Sawamura approaching him.

“What is it, Sawamura?” Iwaizumi asked, cocking his head to the side, curious at what the Commander might have wanted to tell him. The man clasped Iwaizumi’s shoulder, and Iwaizumi saw something that he didn’t like in Sawamura’s eyes.

“I know that you probably don’t want to talk about it, but I also know that tomorrow is going to be especially hard for you.”

It was pity, and Iwaizumi couldn’t stand pity, not in that moment.

“You are right, I don’t want to talk about it.” Not with him, at least. Sawamura was a good guy, but he couldn’t understand. “Thank you for checking on me, though.” Iwaizumi added, before leaving Sawamura, mostly because he didn’t want the guy to feel guilty about something that was beyond his control.

He wandered around the camp that functioned as headquarters, not far from the castle’s gates, eventually finding himself in the zone used as a kitchen. He stole a couple of apples, hoping that food would have made part of his nausea go away.

Once he had been sure the cook hadn’t seen him, he turned around, only to find in a corner a familiar mop of black and yellow hair, and a white robe. He half-sighed and half-chuckled, making his way toward Kenma, who was watching absent-minded the frenzy of busy people moving around him, sitting on the ground, legs against his chest.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi greeted him. Kenma shot a glance to him, only to divert the gaze to the ground as quickly as possible. In the time spent together, Iwaizumi had learned to understand that that was the mage’s way of greeting back when taken by surprise. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” Iwaizumi offered Kenma one of the two apples. The younger man accepted it, taking it with both hands, then scooted away to make space for Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi sat down, knees to his chest as well.

They stayed in silence for a bit, munching on their apples. They had bonded over the years thanks to their similar situation, leading to a friendship based on mutual comfort. It was easy, it wasn’t problematic, and it was what Iwaizumi had needed.

“I hope you succeed.” it was Kenma who broke the silence. Iwaizumi looked at him, finding cat-like eyes staring back at him, as if Kenma was reading inside Iwaizumi’s soul. Well, that aspect of their friendship Iwaizumi liked less, since he wasn’t used to be read instead of being the one to read.

“Well, it’s not like we have other choice.” Iwaizumi bit off the last piece of apples, and realized that food didn’t help his unsettled stomach, only made it worse. “The siege is going to be fine.”

“I wasn’t talking about the siege.” Kenma said, looking at his own half-eaten fruit. Iwaizumi had to catch his breath in order to hear him. “I hope you manage to save him. Because if you can save Oikawa, then we can save Kuro too.”

Iwaizumi breathed out, then chuckled and ruffled Kenma’s hair, affectionately, earning a undignified squeak. “Don’t worry, we’ll save Kuroo without a doubt.” his hand returned to his lap, and his expression turned a little sad. “He’s done far less than Oikawa, and he isn’t as unreasonable.” 

Kenma scrunched his noise. “Kuro was unreasonable even before the Dark Magic situation, so I wouldn’t be counting on that.” Iwaizumi had to chuckle at the sarcasm of Kenma’s voice, which was trying, and failing, to hide the fondness of his tone.

Iwaizumi looked up to the sky, inhaling the chilly winter air.

“We’ll save them, Kenma.”

_I’ll save him._

 

* * *

 

 

Iwaizumi pulled out the sword from Oikawa’s belly, eyes big and incredulous.

In the throne room there were only him, Oikawa, and Kuroo and Kenma.

Kuroo was lying in a pool of his own blood, already dead, while Kenma was cradling his head in his lap, usually spotless robes dyed red. 

Iwaizumi let the sword fall, its metal clanking against the marble floor, the noise reverberating through the chamber, filling it with finality.

He grabbed Oikawa before he could fall, disbelief written on both their faces. Iwaizumi knelt down, accommodating Oikawa in his lap, as the man gasped for air, coughing, blood pouring the corner of his mouth.

Iwaizumi pressed a gloved hand against the wound, trying to stop the blood from pouring, but it was useless and hopeless.

He didn’t realize he was crying until a deadly cold hand touched his cheek, making him shiver. He looked at Oikawa, whose eyes weren’t red as they had been when he had found him, they were the same brown they had been while they had been children growing up.

Oikawa opened his mouth, trying to say something, but only a gurgle came out of it. Iwaizumi moved forward, ready to call him an idiot, ready to tell him to stop moving, that someone was coming and they’d heal him. 

But Oikawa’s body went still in Iwaizumi’s arms, the hand that had been touching Iwaizumi falling, limp, frozen words still on his lips that will never be heard. Iwaizumi searched his eyes for a light, but they were dark and dull.

Iwaizumi brought the body against his chest, the doors behind him opening to reveal that the rest of the army had joined them, a victorious roar accompanying the soldiers.

Iwaizumi didn’t really hear them, didn’t really see them. He only heard the untold words, only saw the body that was now beyond _saving_. 

**Author's Note:**

> ...only fluff and happiness, am I right? ç_ç  
>  Why yes I'm in denial.  
> EDIT: I'm so sorry again about the whole ordeal this is the last time I upload something after midnight


End file.
